Living Among People
by TeaOli
Summary: Just when Uhura and Spock have settled into life aboard a starship, surrounded by their friends, two Very Important People from their Academy days show up and all hell breaks loose on the Enterprise. A sequel to Playing With Toys.
1. The Awakening

Spock awoke alone for the first time in his existence. As it was also the first time he had a life to wake up in, he was not terribly concerned. He was, however loath he was to admit it, quite put out to find that Nyota was nowhere in sight.

After a quick scan of the surrounding area — he could see clearly in spite of the less than optimal lighting conditions — he concluded that he was sitting on a high platform of some sort, several meters from the floor. Simply jumping down in the near-dark meant risking injury and he would be unable to call out for help. There were several items on the platform that might prove beneficial to the endeavor, however. He sat back and began to carefully plan his escape.

.

.

Nyota knew she was alone the moment she woke up. Her sensitive ears failed to detect any signs of life beyond her own measured breathing and a faint rustling from somewhere far to the left of wherever she was. Only the familiar hum of the Enterprise in full operational mode kept her from panicking.

Still somewhat sleepy, she turned to her side and mused, _At least I'm lying on something soft._ But the utter dark and oppressive quiet made her feel her lover's absence all the more acutely. She knew there was little she could do about that until she had more light.

Tucking a hand under her cheek, she drew her knees up to her chest. In this position, Spock's long-sleeved T-shirt covered her from neck to ankle. _Spock will come for me soon_, she told herself. Deciding there was no need to remain awake in the dark until then, she drifted back into a dreamless sleep.

.

.

Jim Kirk knew the situation was serious, but he couldn't quite quell the delight he felt whenever the palm-sized disk — its tiny nacelles jutting out behind it — drifted past. The mini NCC-1701 had started flying around his head the second he'd stepped into his office after its larger counterpart passed through the nebula. Now, it floated through the conference room, splitting the focus of its orbit between him and Engineer Scott. He wondered if it knew they were the two who loved it best.

He listened to his department heads and their deputies, one after another, as they relayed reports from their staff about suddenly animate objects.

"…and, um, one plush toy in the form of a… a bear," Scotty concluded his inventory.

Grinning, Kirk looked at the chief engineer, who was absently stroking the little Enterprise. Squelching an irrational burst of jealousy, he told himself he hadn't really seen the ship nuzzle the man's ear before heading back towards him. Unfortunately, he _was_ sure he heard Scotty murmur "bonnie lass" as it flitted away.

"That makes two teddies," Jim noted. "Who does this one belong to?"

The Scotsman flushed. "Tha' would be me, sir," he said, his burr thickening.

The captain had the grace to look embarrassed at having mortified the engineer. He turned towards his first officer, certain that there would be no humiliating secrets there.

Spock quickly went through his list of Animates. The science staff, Kirk was pleased to note, were dealing with a large number of animated model star systems, vehicles and tiny androids. Nothing surprising in that.

He was already nodding his head when Spock suddenly cleared his throat and flashed a quick glance at Uhura.

"Captain," he said, "if you have no immediate need of me or Lieutenant Uhura, perhaps we might be excused for approximately fifteen minutes?"

"Wha— ?" began the woman in question, before firmly clamping her mouth shut as a look of comprehension crossed her face.

Jim's curiosity was piqued. Uhura had already given her report on the Communications staff, and there were still several departments who needed to make reports. He didn't see a reason why he couldn't excuse them for so short a time, but…

"May I ask why, Mr. Spock?" he asked, glancing back and forth between the two senior officers.

Uhura's smile looked as self-conscious as Scotty's red cheeks. Spock's expression didn't change in the least. "You may ask, sir."

Some of the group gathered around the table tensed while others smiled. Kirk shook his head and fell in line with the grinning faction.

"I probably don't want to know, anyway, Spock," he said easily, thinking about what might await him in his own quarters. "Never mind."

The half-Vulcan rose from his seat, sending another significant glance to his girlfriend. She was on her feet almost immediately.

.

.

"I'm going to _kill_ Gaila," Uhura muttered as soon as the doors hissed closed behind them.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You were sufficiently grateful for her generosity at the time, Lieutenant."

She grinned at him ruefully as they headed towards the nearest turbolift. "Well, that was before I had to worry about what he was getting up to alone in my quart—Oh no!"

Concerned, he turned to face her fully. "What is it, beloved?" he asked, abandoning formality in the face of her sudden distress.

"I left him on the shelf. If he's anything like you…"

"Go," he said. "Ensure he is… unharmed." He resumed striding towards the lift, his pace noticeably faster. "I must do the same for her."

When they reached her deck, she smiled at him again, then stepped out. She had already turned to scurry down the corridor when a disturbing thought occurred to her.

"Spock, what about the—?" she started to ask, turning back. But the lift doors had already closed behind her.

For a few moments, she considered going after him but, deciding he was more than a match for whatever his rooms threw at him, she opted for handling her own problem.

Seconds later, she arrived at her quarters and slapped touchplate. The door swished opened, but before she could enter she felt something brush between her exposed upper calves.

"Shit!" she bit out, then turned heel to follow the escapee.

* * *

**A/N:** Confused? You must not have read _Playing With Toys_. Find it at: /s/5352231/1/Playing_With_Toys.

If you're enjoying yourself, remember to thank Aphrodite420 for being so damned annoying about asking me to write a sequel.

Disclaimer: I still don't own.


	2. They Rise

Spock strode into his sleeping alcove without stopping to scan the sitting area, only to be brought up short by the scene unfolding before him.

Nyota Doll was pressed back against the pillow his true beloved insisted he keep on the bed. Her knees, bare beneath her red uniform skirt, were shaking, though her tiny hands were balled into firm fists. While her expression was as fierce as _his_ Nyota's tended to get when she was considerably angry, there was no mistaking the fear lurking behind the defiance in her embroidered eyes. He was certain she would be screaming if she'd been given a mouth a to scream with.

A diminutive furry beast stood snarling at her hip, its fangs bared, as a host of — he could think of no other word for it — _demons_ carved from stone and cast from metals advanced towards them.

Quickly, Spock surged forward and scooped up both replicas, eyeing the moving statuary warily.

One of the "demons" looked up at him, its expression unaccountably reflecting hurt feelings.

"We meant no harm," it rasped sadly.

The furry beast wriggled in his left hand and he looked down to meet its adoring eyes.

"Good boy, I-Chaya," he said softly.

Nyota Doll pinched his right thumb. Hard. He glanced over to meet a glare worthy of his own Nyota.

.

.

Gaila watched Nyota run past her, then waited until the corridor was empty before slipping into her quarters. She breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her, thankful she'd scored a single berth even if it _was_ only a single room. Whatever Starfleet had to say about favoritism, it paid to be best friends with the First Officer's girlfriend. And to be the captain's _ex_-lover.

_Thank Zetlek Jim Kirk is capable of feeling guilty_, she told herself, invoking the name of her people's primary deity of sexual allure.

She hadn't exactly been… thorough when Commander Spock had asked her for a list of possibly animated objects in her possession. There were some things a girl just didn't need to share with her superior officer.

Bracing herself for what she knew was about to happen, Gaila walked over to her closet and slid open the door. Immediately, a score of erotic aids — in all shapes, sizes and colors — scooted out and vied for her attention.

Her next sigh was frustrated.

"Down, boys!" she chided as a pale purple, double-shafted dildo began vibrating against her ankle and a fat phallus covered in tawny fur attempted to climb up her other leg.

Not that any of them listened. She wondered if they could even hear. It wasn't like they had ears….

Kicking them aside only brought temporary relief. Most of them swarmed her again no sooner than her foot was firmly on the floor once more.

She scanned the undulating rainbow of pleasure-givers and let out an exasperated groan.

_Zet_el_enek_, she thought, invoking her people's primary deity of sexual dysfunction, _I never thought I'd regret having so many sex toys_.

Then one in particular caught her eye.

Bending down, she picked up a long, bright green member that stood apart from the crowd.

"Hey, sweetie," she crooned, wading through the morass of false appendages scuttling around her room and shoving aside any that got too bold. "How are you holding up?"

The fake Orion organ snuggled against her cheek as she reached her bed and sat.

"Hey, yourself, baby," a voice at her side oozed. "How about you lose the brainless wonder and give a whole man a try? Better yet, why don't you whip up a green girl my size, so we can both get lucky tonight?"

Gaila glared at the little Jim Kirk lounging on her bedside table, apparently admiring the bars on his command gold uniform shirt. Before he had a chance to say another word, she laid her toy in her lap, grabbed the doll and reached towards the drawer.

The miniature Kirk's gem-like eyes filled with dread when he saw what she was doing.

"Come on, Gai, be nice" he pleaded. "I was _kidding_. You can take a joke, right?"

She opened the drawer.

"Come _on_," he repeated. "I'm sorry. Okay? _Okay_?"

Gaila jabbed a pin in his ass anyway.

.

.

James Tiberius Kirk almost banged into his hovering companion as he jumped up and yelped, "Oww!"

Thankful that he'd rescheduled the remainder of the meeting after receiving Spock's "I am experiencing a few complications, Captain," Kirk turned to the little Enterprise and murmured an apology while rubbing his right butt cheek. The pain receded quickly, and his ship nuzzled his face to show he was forgiven.

"Is everything okay, Master?"

He swung around to face his bedroom doorway and gawk at the statuesque blonde it framed.

"I heard you yell. Are you in need of assistance, Master?"

"Uh."

"Master!" the blonde exclaimed. Her pale eyes, lined with kohl and lashes heavy with mascara, widened. "Are you unable to speak? Let me help you!"

She stepped into the sitting room. Jim took a step back. The Enterprise buzzed agitatedly.

He shook his head. _Maybe I _shouldn't _have postponed the meeting._

.

.

"There you are!" Uhura stood outside of Spock's quarters, arms folded across her chest. "Why'd you run away? I was only going to bring you here."

She'd spent the past twenty minutes chasing him through corridors and scrambling down Jeffries tubes. The little guy could move _fast_.

The tiny Vulcan, dressed in science blue, stared up at her, hands clasped behind his back. He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh!" she said, smiling at her mistake. "I forgot you don't have a mouth. I could kick Gaila for that. I bet you'd like to do that, too."

Giggling, she bent down and he allowed her to pick him up.

Spock Doll's slanted brows drew down in a frown and he gestured to the door.

"Right," she said. "Impatient, aren't we?" Placing her hand on the touchplate, she glanced down at him as she waited for the door to slide open. He was watching her, hand raised, fingers spread meaningfully.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked as she stepped inside.

The doll shook his head in the negative.

Uhura bent her head and lifted him until he could touch her face. Within seconds, she felt him enter her mind.

_Thank you, Other Nyota_.

She raised a brow at the "other," but Spock Doll wasn't finished communicating.

_I apologize if my abrupt exit caused you distress. It occurred to me that Nyota might be in danger in your mate's quarters. In my determination to ensure her safety, I did not anticipate the difficulties doors would present. _

Uhura only just stopped herself from stating, "You mean you were scared shitless for her. Or you were horny as a sa-te kru in heat."

_I was _not _horny as a sa-te fru in its season_, he countered. _I was concerned that the other simulacrums might do her harm_.

"What 'other simulacrums'?" she asked, more to get his mind off the unintended insult — she'd have to take care to guard her thoughts — than because she required an answer.

"_These_ 'other simulacrums'," Spock told her.

She looked up to see her ashayam enter the living space. Three splayed fingers held Nyota Doll secure against his chest; the right index finger was pressed to the side of her head. A furry little animal with long fangs rested on his shoulder and nuzzled his ear. Several of Spock's ugly little statues followed in their wake.

_I-Chaya!_ Spock Doll's exclamation burst into her mind on a wave of joy.

The little demons looked up at Uhura, their tiny, distorted faces fearful.

"We meant no harm!" they piteously cried in unison.

Spock aimed a raised a brow at his facsimile's hand on his k'diwa's face.

Nyota Doll stretched her little arms and legs toward her mate.

* * *

Disclaimer: I still don't own.


	3. Interactions

Still rubbing his battered bum, Voodoo Kirk grinned at his companions. "Guess it's just you and me, guys," he said cheerfully. Shambling over to the edge of the bed, he gauged the distance to the floor. _I'm a doll. What could it hurt?_ With an irreverent shrug, he hopped off and landed painfully on his knees. "_Voodoo_ doll," he reminded himself in a wry mutter as he swiped at the nonexistent dust on his black uniform pants. "Right."

He glanced over at the erotic aids, now clustered in a quivering huddle near their closet.

"What?" Exasperation made his voice sharp and the mass of members shook with renewed fear. He shook his head. _Poor schmucks_, he thought._ If only they could talk_. Chuckling at his own word-play, he set about exploring his new world.

Ten minutes later, he was on intimate terms with just about every nook and cranny of Gaila's single-room single. The Schmuck Brigade took care to shuffle off in another direction whenever he got within ten centimeters of them.

"How the hell do you guys even _see_ me?" he wondered aloud at one point and the Orion-green one had trembled so violently, the doll had only narrowly missed getting covered in the viscous white fluid it spat out in its distress. He made a mental note to stay far away from that one. "Never mind that, Schmuckelekh, any of you know how to get out of here?"

A pale pinkish pecker, a human replica if Voodoo Kirk didn't miss his guess — a very_ familiar_ human replica — cocked its head at the question.

"Wait a second," the suspicious pincushion muttered to himself. 'She _wouldn't _ha—." But he was pretty good evidence, himself, that she just might.

Not entirely sure he wasn't about to make a fool of himself — they didn't have eyes or earsbut they still seemed to see and hear him — Voodoo Jim crouched down in a half squat and turned his most charming smile on his target.

"Hey, Little Fell—uhm, Big Guy," he called, making sure to sound gentle and welcoming. "Kirk? Is your name Kirk?" The dildo quivered all over in something that didn't look like fright, but didn't come any closer. Voodoo grinned. A small success was better than none. "Or is it Jimmy?" The simulacrum shook so hard he was a little afraid it might injure itself. "Here, Kirk," he called in a voice most people reserved for small dogs and children. "Come on, Jimmy! Come here, boy."

Kirk/Jimmy nearly knocked Voodoo Kirk off his stuffed feet in its efforts to obey. Once he'd steadied himself, Voodoo petted the pretend penis lovingly. "Good boy," he crooned. "Good boy. Jimmy's gonna help Daddy escape. Yes he is. Yes he is!"

.

.

Pavel Chekov sat on his bed, lower lip stuck out mutinously, arms folded across his skinny chest.

"Nyet!"

"Da!" retorted his companion.

"Nyet! Nyet! Nyet!" Chekov taunted back.

The fat brown teddy bear, whose fur was rubbed almost bare in places, rose up on his hind legs and slammed his front paws onto his bulging hips.

"You _will_ go to the mess hall and you _will_ eat all of your vegetables, Pavel Andreievich Chekov!"

The ensign's stuck-out lower lip began to wobble, half in anger, half because he was seriously considering whether or not to cry.

"But I don't like свеклы! That is what cook has on menu tonight. "

"If you save personal dining rations like genius you are supposed to be," Медведь growled, "you could be eating delicious горох и морковь tonight."

"Goroh i morkov'" breathed the young Russian. "I would rather eat that."

"You should have told yourself this when you were baking pastry," admonished Медведь. "Now, go!" He pointed a sharp claw towards the door.

Pavel unfolded his arms, stood and went to do as he was told.

"How has that boy survived on his own?" Медведь wondered once he was alone.

.

.

Between Lieutenant Sulu's antique _Monopoly_® tokens racing, yelping and floating the length of the table ("I left the cannon in my quarters," he assured his dinner mates.) and Ensign Chekov picking at his food and sighing, Lieutenant Commander Scott had had just about enough.

"Ach now, lad," he barked at the boy (Who knew what else Sulu had in his wiggling pockets? Besides, his battleship was a beauty, she was.), "are ye plannin' to eat that? There's no sense to keep stabbin' at it, so. It's already dead, ye ken?"

Chekov turned sad green eyes on the Chief Engineer. "Медведь will yell at me if I go back to my quarters without eating my vegetables."

"Medved?"

"Close enough," Chekov replied, utterly morose. "He is my… plush bruin comrade."

Across the table, Sulu stopped his tokens from falling off the edge and set them off in the other direction. He smirked at Pavel (while Scotty winced at the yappy dog) and muttered under his breath, "You mean your 'teddy bear.' Whose name is 'Bear.'"

Chekov turned as red as the beets he didn't want to eat.

"There's nothin' wrong with havin' a teddy bear," Scotty chipped in. "I've a bruin comrade, meself. Thomasina Mortonia is a bonnie lass. Perhaps she'd like to meet your Medved."

The boy frowned at his plate.

"I can't go back until I eat the beets. Медведь will know if I don't. He could always tell if I was lying." He shook his head sadly.

"Then eat the beets!" Scotty shook his head in exasperation.

"I don't like beets."

"Why'd you get them, then? And what kind of Russian doesn't like beets?"

Glaring at the stereotyping, Chekov explained about his preference for peas and carrots. "But beets were on the menu," he concluded.

"Use a replicator ration and get yourself some peas and carrots!" The engineer's burr intensified at pace with his annoyance. He needed to take several calming breaths to keep from pulling out what hair he had left on his head.

"I am not having any more rations," the tactical officer practically whispered.

"It's the beginning of the month, for heaven's sake!"

"I needed them to make zapekanka and pirozhki for Zahra Jamal."

Sulu and Scotty exchanged knowing glances upon hearing the youth had tried cooking for the pretty yeoman.

"Oh yeah?" Hikaru asked as he tapped his tiny racecar back on course. "Did she like them?"

"She liked them so much, she asked me if I could make more for her date with Lieutenant Riley."

The engineer and the pilot exchanged another glance and reached into their pockets simultaneously.

"Get yourself some peas and carrots, kid," Sulu said.

"And maybe some nice broccoli while you're at it," Scotty added.

Chekov snatched up the proffered rations before either thought better of their spontaneous generosity and raced off to the replicators, leaving his beets behind him.

.

.

Knees inexplicably aching, Kirk walked into the mess, a mini starship buzzing at his ear and an enraged Orion dogging his heels. Just as he figured he could make his escape in the crowd around the replicator, Ensign Chekov ran into his path. Jim halted to avoid running the kid over, and Gaila took advantage of his distraction to dart around to his front.

"Well, I can't find them anywhere and now I've got a puddle of cyclopentasiloxane on my carpet!" she exclaimed. "Who's going to clean it up?"

Not sure what to say — he was pretty sure he could guess why there was liquid silicone in her room, but he was even more positive he didn't want to talk about that reason — Kirk simply stared at the computer specialist, his mouth hanging slightly open.

* * *

**A/N:** In the U.S., we primarily use the term "schmuck" to mean something akin to "fool," but where I grew up, using the word in front of an adult could get your mouth washed out with soap. Consult a decent Yiddish dictionary if you really wanna know why. Also, I don't speak or read Russian, so the translations are iffy at best.

Disclaimer: I'm not even gonna claim ownership of the Animates.


	4. Hunger

As accustomed as she was to tuning out the general hubbub of the mess, watching the Dolls made concentrating on her dinner impossible.

Spock D and Nyota D sat on the table, hands almost indecently entwined (by Vulcan standards, their display was positively lewd!) and stared at each other soulfully while Spock's demons took advantage of his lover's distraction to steal bits of food from her tray. Absently, Uhura stroked the spiky stone head of a particularly bold statuette.

"You'd think they'd been apart for years rather than a couple of days," she murmured for Spock's ears only. He reached over and tugged a bit of heavily-spiced tempeh from a demon's claws, then fed it to a comically grateful tiny sehlat. Little I-Chaya rolled onto his back and wriggled around like a puppy begging for a belly scratch.

_We have been separated far longer than you and _your _mate have been_, Spock D pointed out, never lifting his eyes from Nyota D.

Uhura grimaced. She'd forgotten about the mind link. "How do I get him out of my head?" she asked her Spock.

He raised an eyebrow and gazed at his miniature replica. "That is dependent on how deeply he bonded to you." Stretching out a single long finger, he tickled the sehlat's tummy.

_I am as deeply bonded to you as he is to _my _mate,_ Spock D informed helpfully. Uhura didn't imagine the provocative note coloring the thought.

"How deeply _are_ you bonded to Nyota D?" she asked as if Spock had heard his counterpart, although she knew he hadn't.

"As deeply as you are bonded to her mate," he told her.

Suppressing a groan, Uhura dropped her fork, pushed her tray away and dropped her head into her hands.

Little I-Chaya and the demons dove into her still-warm dinner.

.

Kirk frantically scanned the mess, looking for someone — anyone! — to deliver him from Gaila's unwelcome inquisition. He spotted his XO and communications officer sitting in a corner of the room, the only occupants of a semi-secluded four-top. Uhura's head was clutched in hands that dug into her hair in a way that _had_ to hurt. Spock stared stonily at the table. Neither looked like they wanted any more company.

_Too fucking bad_, Kirk thought. _This is why they call me "captain."_ He made his limping way through the bustling, cacophonous cafeteria, a minuscule starship buzzing around his head and an irate Orion on his heels and still bitching away, until he reached his friends.

"Why? Me?" Uhura bit out through clenched teeth as he dragged out a chair with one hand and slapped down his tray with the other. _I feel your pain, sister,_ he thought as he eased down into the seat.

"Oooh! The Dolls!" Gaila squealed as she ran around the table to sit opposite him. "How are my babies doing? Your new uniforms look great!"

For the first time, Jim noticed that Spock and Uhura weren't as alone as he'd thought they were. Two plushie people, a half dozen little statues and a furry stuffed… _something_ shared their table. To his surprise, the plushie people (not quite as surprisingly, they were a greenish man with pointed ears and a brown woman, both dressed in reasonable approximations of Starfleet service uniforms) jumped to their little feet and, in unison, bowed to the Orion.

Gaila clapped her hands and laughed, the missing doll and dildo, not to mention the silicone stain on her carpet, apparently forgotten for the time being.

"It's so great that you've been animated, too!" she told the plush toys. "If Voodoo Kirk ever shows his rotten— " she glanced cautiously at Jim "I mean if I can find him again, he'll have a couple of friends his size to spend time with." Brushing aside the scary little statues the captain now recognized as decorations from Spock's quarters, she grabbed the tray of food they'd been swarming over and started eating what was left.

Kirk and Spock exchanged weary glances, Uhura burrowed her face further into her hands. The Dolls resumed sitting and gazing at each other, hands entwined in a way he'd never seen their fleshly counterparts attempt in public. Gaila beamed at them and absently fed part of her stolen dinner to the furry little beast with the fangs.

A more leisurely look around the room revealed more than one head in hands and copious amounts of excited observation of formerly inanimate objects at the tables scattered around the mess. Kirk mentally shrugged his shoulders. Something would have to be done. And soon. For now, though, he just needed to eat his dinner before Spock's tiny demons ate it for him.

"Master!" he heard a distinctive voice cry out.

He froze, mid-chew, a sense of dread, cold and painful, gripping his stomach. Kirk put down his fork and glanced up to see that all eyes in the room were riveted on a voluptuous and decidedly _out-of-__uniform_ figure in the doorway.

"Jeannie!" exclaimed Lieutenant Sulu.

Elbows propped around his tray on the table, Jim dropped his face into his hands and dug his fingers into his scalp.

"I am not 'Jeannie,'" he heard the familiar voice declare. "I am 'Jenny 8675309, a fully-operational coital surrogate, guaranteed for one hundred fifty years of pleasurable play!'"

"Why? Me?" he bit out through clenched teeth. The mini Enterprise hummed sympathetically near his left ear.

.

.

"Well, then. Ye'd best be prepared for what tha' boy captain of yours has to say, Mont." Thomasina rose to her full forty-six centimeters and propped neat golden brown paws on ample, tweed-covered hips.

"He willnae have much to _say_," Montgomery guessed. "I'm bettin' there _will_ be lots of questions that he'll be expectin' me to answer."

She showed her sharp canines at this prospect, but fortunately Engineer Scott knew his teddy well enough to understand this just meant she was concentrating on the topic.

"And what," she wanted to know, "do ye think he'll be expectin' ye to tell him, exactly?"

"Probably, how it is that you and a host of other, er, people who shouldn't even be breathing have lately been walking, talking and reminding Ensign Brat to eat his vegetables, for starters."

Thomasina wrinkled her furry brow. "I thought ye said the boy was a genius?"

For a moment, Scotty wasn't sure which "boy" she was referring to. "The captain or Ensign Chekov?"

"Tha' fool captain, of course! If it's nae to do with math and physics, the Brat has _nae_ clue." She shook her head as if her human friend had just asked whether the skies above Paisley were orange or blue. "One might think he'd go straight to the source, seeing as how he's supposed to be so smart."

Montgomery Scott smiled at his brilliant bear.

"Well now, lass," he said, the grin stretching to unlikely proportions, "that's why I'm asking ye to come with."

.

.

"We've got to do something," James Tiberius Kirk announced to his senior officers.

Although they'd reassembled around the conference table, as ordered, not one of them — well, except for Spock — was treating the situation with anything like the gravity they'd shown earlier. Bones singing, in a damnably tuneful tenor and only half under his breath, "Eight, six, seven, five, three, oh, nine," didn't exactly help matters.

"Curious, Doctor," Spock said, cocking his head in the way that usually meant he was going to follow up with something either funny or extremely annoying. "I have never before heard that song performed in a manner consistent with the 'country music' genre."

"Oh, sure you have!" Bones replied, _not_ sotto voce. "Uhura borrowed that cover the Noah Travis Seven did back in '136 when she was making the mix for the Brat's eighteenth. Remember?"

"Indeed," the half-Vulcan conceded. "I was not aware that rendition would also be considered country."

"Gentlemen!" Jim snapped, pushed to the limit of his patience. "If you can tear yourselves away from talking about one-hit wonders from a century and a quarter ago, we've got a few things we need to discuss."

He cast a meaningful glance along the conference table, where various objects sat, lay, writhed or scurried amongst the PADDs and cups of water sitting in front of each officer. Sulu's Monopoly® Scottish terrier decided to resume his high-pitched yapping at that moment.

He turned his glare towards the hapless helmsman. "Shut that dog up, Lieutenant!"

With a sheepish grin, Sulu picked up the squirmy little pooch and placed it in his pocket where its muted barks could still be heard through the tabletop above it. Then the pilot let out a sharp shriek and gave his thigh a sharp swat. Silence rang throughout the meeting room.

"Little shit bit me," he explained to his stunned audience. "In a… sensitive area."

Grins and muffled chuckles broke out around the table. With three — no four (Spock's face still held its "I am intrigued" look.) — notable exceptions.

Kirk continued to glare.

Uhura Doll covered her face with tiny fuzz-covered fingers.

Spock Doll stared at Sulu with open shock that bordered on rage.

_Murderer!_ Uhura heard flash through her mind.

"Huh?" she said aloud.

_Lieutenant Sulu's actions may have resulted in the demise of an Animate,_ Spock Doll explained, having regained his usual phlegmatic cool.

"Umm, Hikaru?" Uhura called quietly, losing her amused grin. "Is the, uh… is the dog okay?"

Sulu pulled the still-struggling pewter pup from his pocket. It immediately started yapping again.

Resigned to the idea that this was probably as close to peaceful as they were going to get, Kirk rolled his eyes and cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, "we've got to do something. And soon."

"And what," came a growly, but surprisingly high pitched voice from across the room, "exactly do ye think needs doin?"

.

.

Nyota's hand clasped in his, Spock refused to hurry his steps in order to keep up with their enormous counterparts. He knew the way back if they became separated from the Others. The woman at his side squeezed his hand and sent a wave of her desire through the contact.

He had memorized several alternate routes that might help them arrive at Other Spock's quarters ahead of the larger couple. Only the knowledge that they would waste valuable time while he devised a way to enter kept him from suggesting they try one.

Spock looked down and to the side, straight into Nyota's hungering eyes.

Indeed. It _had_ been too long since they had last been together.

Curiously, he had not been aware of halting his forward progression. But when he heard Other Nyota tell her Spock, "I think we should carry them" he found he was disinclined to argue.

Part of him wondered if perhaps he _should_ have protested—Thomasina had just (quite forcefully) made a case for treating the Animates (as they had agreed to call themselves) with dignity, but Nyota pointed out, _It'll be faster that way._ _We can worry about our dignity later_. After.

He could think of no other statement with which he agreed more at the moment.

By the time the door slipped open and Other Spock carried them into the living space, dignity was far from Spock's mind. A trickle of embarrassment, emanating from Nyota as he caressed the nape of her neck reminded him of where he was and with whom.

_We require privacy,_ he told Other Nyota. Through the link he shared with her, he sensed that the Other couple had been affected by what he and Nyota were experiencing.

She shared a glance with her partner, then both retreated to the sleeping alcove.

Spock closed the link and set about pleasing _his_ Nyota.

.

.

Kirk's shoulders relaxed as a vision with luminous green skin and lustrous hair, brighter than new pennies, walked towards him.

"Gaila…" Completely out of his element for perhaps the first time since he'd been officially installed as captain of Starfleet's flagship, Jim stopped speaking after breathing his former… friend's name. Reading the Orion's patent disapproval made finding the right words impossible. "Gaila, I—" He needed a deep breath to try again. "I really appreciate this." _Lame, lame, lame!_ He considered kicking himself, but decided he didn't feel that bad. It had been close to two years, after all.

"Don't thank me yet, Captain," she said, exchanging the glare for a smirk. "Women aren't exactly my specialty."

Punching the touchplate, she strode into his quarters as soon as the door slid open. He followed behind, his need to explain himself lost as the other occupant of the rooms made her presence known.

" Master!" cried Jenny as soon as she caught sight of the Orion woman, her blue eyes gone huge with worry. "Who is _this_?" Clearly, Jenny recognized a rival when she saw one.

Gaila didn't wait for Kirk to answer. "I'm your worst nightmare, sweetie," she said, her voice like sucrose mixed with a steviol glycoside. "We need to talk."

.

.

Uhura arched her back as she rode the wave of mind-numbing pleasure, screwing her eyes shut and clenching her teeth against crying out. She felt Spock hum with pride at her restrained display of delight then redouble his effort to break her shaky control.

A smile touched her lips at her lover's unVulcan-like behavior, and she wriggled around to give him better access. He responded with a maneuver that nearly made her scream loud enough to break through the highest soundproofing level his quarters allowed.

_And that's _another _reason we need mouths!_ she heard a voice much like her own exclaim in her head.

She stiffened, inadvertently squeezing Spock's head between lean but strong thighs.

"Nyota?" he queried, struggling to free himself. "Is something amiss? Are you no longer pleased?"

"Dolls," she choked out, scrambling away from him and onto her knees. She winced as one of said knees knocked into his head. "Oops! Sorry, k'diwa."

_Nyota requires nourishment_, Spock Doll told her. _But she lacks a mouth with which to meet her nutritional needs._

_And _he _lacks a mouth to satisfy my hunger,_ his partner added, her tummy growling as if to corroborate his words.

Clutching a sheet to her chest in order to hide her nakedness, Uhura was hard-pressed to stifle a giggle at her replica's naughtiness. Instead, she forced herself to frown at the couple and say with as much indignation as she could muster, "How about giving us a little bit of that privacy that you two insisted on a couple of hours ago?"

Somehow, Nyota Doll rolled her embroidered eyes. _How is _us _watching _you _worse than you two "playing" with us before we became animated and sentient?_ she wanted to know. _Are you suggesting that _you _deserve __to __be treated differently just because we _used to be _your toys?_

"It's different because Spock and I were _already_ animated and sentient!" Uhura sputtered, dropping the sheet in her excitement. "And how am I even hearing you, anyway?"

_Nyota and I have agreed it would be prudent for us to bond,_ Spock D supplied as an answer. _In anticipation of that event, I have established a link with her similar to the one I share with you. It is, of course, much stronger, as she is to be my mate._

Spock, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, crawled to the head of the bed and gently covered her again.

"They have a point, beloved," he said.

Uhura raised questioning brows.

"About the bonding. And their need for mouths," he clarified.

She was just about to agree when he added, "But especially about our treatment of them and about their observance of us."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks to Aphrodite420 for the super-quick betaing. Now that you've met all the important people, Living and Animate alike, let the fun begin. (Though I like to think it's already begun.)

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not even the Animates, really.


	5. Therefore, We Are

Voodoo Kirk smiled and patted Jimmy's pulsating side. "Good boy," he murmured to the pink pecker who was now dusky with exertion. "Good boy."

Jimmy nuzzled Voodoo, basking in the attention. He'd known from the first moment the tall, fuzzy being first stroked him in the room where their Maker lived that they were connected. Nothing felt as good as V. Kirk touching him. Not even sliding in and out of the Maker's warm, wet place.

V. Kirk chuckled when Jimmy snuggled even closer, and he rubbed his hand over Jimmy's head. Jimmy couldn't stop the tiny spurt from erupting at the loving contact.

Instantly, Jimmy stilled in dear. He wasn't supposed to spurt — not even in the warm, wet place. That much he knew.

But V. Kirk didn't get angry. Instead, he just used his sleeve to wipe the stuff off Jimmy's head and gave him an affectionate squeeze. "That's my boy!" he said, and Jimmy shivered a little but was careful not to spurt again.

"Let's get going, Jimmy," Voodoo said after one last cuddle. And then he lifted Jimmy in strong arms until Jimmy could reach another one of those door-opener thingies before lowering him to the floor again.

Hand in shaft, Jimmy and V. Kirk scuttled out of the empty corridor and into a little round room. Voodoo picked Jimmy up again and told him to press a different kind of button. Then Voodoo said, "Deck Five," and the little round room began to move.

.

.

Jenny frowned at the green girl standing in her master's quarters. "Worst nightmare" was a pretty apt description. Not that Jenny had ever _had_ a nightmare. She hadn't even been to sleep since waking up for the very first time. But her master's confusing behavior had driven her to do a little research. Everything she'd learned about green women pointed to trouble for Jenny.

Still, she knew this Orion wasn't the reason her master seemed reluctant to make use of Jenny's copious skills. She didn't know _how_ she knew, but she was positively certain her master wasn't making use of her rival's formidable talents, either. That wasn't much to go on, but it was enough to boost the doll's flagging confidence.

"You are not a nightmare," Jenny lied. "You are an Orion girl on pheromone suppressors as dictated by Starfleet regulation 9350, subset 11, paragraph 47. And I am 'Jenny 8675309, a fully-operational coital surrogate, guaranteed for one hundred fifty years of pleasurable play.' I have been designed to 'deliver more satisfaction than an entire skulk of Orion Animal Women infected with Estratetri Pollen.' You are no match for me."

Having successfully completed the most aggressive opening gambit she could think of, Jenny placed her hands on her shapely hips, mirroring the infiltrator's pose.

The Orion's eyes widened and she began to tremble minutely. Jenny knew from her research that these were signs of an imminent display of distress, usually followed by lachrimation, sometimes accompanied with a keening or convulsive respiration interruptions commonly called "sobbing." As she had been designed to give delight and gratification, Jenny was loath to cause suffering in another being, even if that being was trying to usurp her place in her master's life.

The doll stepped forward, ready to offer comfort and perhaps a word or two of advice to the hapless woman. Jenny existed to make people happy, after all. She could afford to be generous in her victory.

When she placed her hand on the Orion's shaking shoulder, she was surprised to hear the loud burst of air that erupted from the green woman's throat. While the Orion was convulsively gasping for breath, the sound was nothing like the audio files of sobbing. And, although she appeared to be lachrimating, her green cheeks bulged at the sides of her face, her pink lips tilted up at the corners and Jenny saw flashes of brilliant white teeth every time the woman paused to suck in more air.

"Are you… _laughing_, Orion Girl?" Jenny wanted know. Suddenly, she did not feel very sympathetic at all.

The Orion continued to shake and gasp, too rude to even compose herself and answer the question. Jenny found that she was beginning to feel a new feeling.

It was not happiness. Or sadness. Or even pity. It was certainly not fear; she had already experienced that and conquered it. Coital substitutes of her design were _not_ supposed to feel negative emotions. (She ignored the voice at the back of her head that said coital substitutes of _her_ design were not supposed to feel anything at all. Ever.) This new emotion, she realized, felt suspiciously like anger.

The Orion was now bent over, her hands on her knees. She continued to laugh.

Jenny learned the difference between anger and rage.

"Do not laugh at me, Orion Girl!" she shrieked. "I am Jenny 8675309—"

She was unprepared for the moment when the Orion woman reared up and wrapped a surprisingly strong green hand around her neck.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the woman said. "You're a fully operational coital surrogate. I get it. What _you_ don't get is that you're not needed here." She cocked her head towards the master. "Jim Kirk has been getting plenty of pleasure without you. Otherwise you wouldn't have had to take _yourself_ out of the damned box."

Jenny wondered how the Orion knew about that, but the woman wasn't finished speaking.

"Now, we can work this out one of two ways: you can either stop following the captain around like a lovesick puppy or I can reprogram you so that you're a fully operational shoe shiner guaranteed to lick boots for one hundred fifty years."

She gave Jenny a tiny shake to emphasize her point. Jenny did not know enough about her own programming, or about why she had reached this new level of sentience, to openly doubt her.

"Which is it going to be, sweetie?" the Orion asked, her inflection gentle, as if she did not notice that she was squeezing Jenny's throat in an increasingly tight grip.

Jenny was not born yesterday. Her awakening had occurred less than twenty-four standard hours before. But she was no dummy, either. She had been created as a fully operational coital surrogate. She did not intend to become a boot licker.

"I will refrain from behaving like a juvenile canine, Mistress," she managed to squeeze out.

The Orion let go, then offered Jenny the hand that had so recently been throttling the doll. Jenny dutifully kissed it.

"My name's Gaila," she said. "But I kind of like the sound of 'Mistress.' And I'm _not _an animal woman. Got it?"

She smiled a captivating smile, and Jenny realized that her designers might have engaged in a bit of false advertising in claiming that she and her kind were more satisfying than even a single Orion female.

"It would be my pleasure to address you that way, Mistress," Jenny replied.

"And I might just take you up on that, sweetie," her mistress told her with a wink.

Then she turned to look at the master. With a start, Jenny realized that she had forgotten that he was still in the room. Only the irrefutable evidence of the Orion's power to draw all attention onto herself saved the doll from feeling guilty about that.

"Anything else I can do for you, Captain?"

The master answered with a smile that was almost as alluring as the mistress's. Jenny accepted her defeat gracefully. Clearly, these two were far beyond whatever her designers knew about sexual attraction.

"There are a lot of things you can do for me, Gaila," the master murmured. "But I have a feeling you might kick my ass if I mention any of them."

The mistress walked over to the master and wound her long green fingers through his golden hair. She leaned in and pressed full breasts against his muscled chest. With her lips mere centimeters from his, she whispered, "Damn straight."

Releasing the master, the mistress turned back to Jenny. "I'll be keeping my eye on you, sweetie," she said. Then she walked over to the door and left.

"I can see you and the mistress have much to teach me, Master," Jenny said after the door closed behind her.

.

.

_We must appeal to the Creator_, Spock D. insisted.

Spock lifted an eyebrow. Uhura snorted.

"'Creator'?" she queried. "You mean Gaila?"

_Affirmative_, confirmed Spock D.

_She's the only one who can help us_, added Nyota D. _You and Spock aren't _nearly_ as adept with a needle and thread as the Creator._

Uhura decided not to take insult at her mini's observation because she knew it was true. Neither she nor Spock was any good at embroidery. Sure, Spock could hem a pair of uniform briefs or even fix a torn skirt — he had plenty of experience fixing the articles he occasionally ripped off her (very willing) body. And, fair only being fair, she'd learned to do the same for him, since, from time to time, she was just as guilty at being a little too eager to get at the goods.

But delicate work like the Dolls required was beyond their combined skill-set.

Still… "Look, Gaila _still_ doesn't admit to sewing you guys, herself," she pointed out. "To this day, she claims to have had you made 'at great personal expense, mind' for Spock and me. Not even the thought of gaining a couple of worshiping disciples is likely to get her to come clean."

_We don't _worship_ her, Ennie,_ argued an offended Nyota D. _Just because we recognize the fact that neither of us would exist without her doesn't make her into our _god _or anything!_

Spock D was more prosaic in his protest. _I believe the prospect of two of her creations _perishing_ due to lack of sustenance will be sufficient inducement for our… Fabricator to admit to her true role in our manufacture._

"I concur," concurred Spock, and Uhura had to admit the two Vulcans had a point.

Nyota D's tummy growled at the moment, and she bent over, clutching her midsection. Without even thinking about what she was doing Uhura picked her up and started rocking her plushy counterpart.

"Gods, Ennie," she murmured. "I hope they're right."

_They'd better be,_ said Nyota D.

.

.

"Медведь? Tha' means 'bear,' I believe?" Thomasina studied the brown teddy sitting across from where she stood on Montgomery's bed. "Yer human hadnae much imagination, then?"

Medved bared his teeth in a completely non-threatening way. "He was only three years old when I get him," he said defensively. "Already his папа and мама had filled his head with nothing but mathematic theory. What was to be expected of such child?"

Thomasina shook her furry head. "Ach, Mr. Bear," she said. "My Montgomery was much the same with the engineering and the physics. I couldnae ha' a name like 'Honey' or 'Petal' or 'Mrs. Growly' like other bears my age, could I? Naaaae, he ha' tae name me after an auld Scots engineer naebody even knows aboot anymore. An' _he_ didnae even ha' his mither or his faither to blame for it! He figured out how to obsess over them on his own."

Medved chuckled at that, slapping a paw against his bare knee. "Pavel thinks Thomas Morton was Russian. Pavel thinks _every_ great contributor to humanity is Russian. I try to teach boy, but.." He shrugged his great shoulders and sighed.

"I _still_ try to tell Monty tha' there's more tae life than handsome nacelles and warp core engines. He doesnae listen to me, any more than he did when I could only talk inside his head."

"It is difficult, nyet?" observed Medved. "Raising humans? The work of плюшевый медведь is never done."

Slumping down next to him, Thomasina agreed, "Aye, under normal circumstances, we plyushevyĭ medvedi can never retire."

Medved didn't miss the conspiratorial twinkle in her honey-gold eyes.

"But now we are under not so 'normal circumstances,' da?" he said with a twinkle of his own.

* * *

**A/N:** And the plot thickens! What _are_ those teddy bears thinking? (BTW, I apologize if плюшевый медведь is an inaccurate translation for them.)

As, Aphrodite420 has obliged me to explain, "skulk" is a collective noun for foxes. Since Orion Animal Women could arguably be considered "vixens" in the colloquial sense, I thought the term fitting. Thanks be to her for the ultra-quick beta.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Not even the Animates, really.


	6. First Night

Gaila didn't even make it halfway back to her own deck before her communicator sounded.

"I need you to come to Spock's quarters," Nyota said instead of "hello."

The Orion squelched a tinge of annoyance; everyone was feeling a little pressure right now. She was pretty sure a lot of Ny's pressure was her fault, anyway, and was fully willing to accept responsibility for her actions. Still…

"I'm kind of busy right now, Ny," she told her friend. "I've got a voodoo doll and dick to track down. I'll stop by your quarters later, sweetie."

Her declaration was met with a momentary silence, but then Nyota was asking incredulously, "Did you just say you're looking for a 'voodoo dick'?"

Rolling her eyes, Gaila tapped her foot as the lift stopped to admit three crewmen in red shirts.

"Voodoo _doll_," she corrected, ignoring the knowing looks and sniggers from the crewmen. "The dick ran just away with it. There's no such thing as a voo—."

"Look, I really don't care about your dicks and dolls," Nyota cut in sharply. "You need to get your green ass over to Commander Spock's quarters PDQ!"

_That_ pissed the Orion off. So, yeah, Nyota Uhura hadn't had a sentimental bone in her body before Gaila had presented her with that damned Spock plushie. But from the moment she'd seen it until the day she'd replaced it with the real deal, Ny had rarely gone anywhere without it. So what if it _was_ walking and talking, now? If anything, that should make her former roommate love it even more, right?

"I just _came_ from that deck, Lieutenant," Gaila grumbled, letting an edge creep into her voice. If Ny was going to start tossing out titles, well…

"Gai…" Nyota's voice was suddenly so forlorn, Gaila actually shivered. "Please. It's a matter of life or death."

.

.

"Dude! You gotta see my GranTurismo!" Barely able to contain his excitement, Sulu rubbed his hands together as he dashed over to his closet and pulled out a large metal box. "I, uh, have to keep it in here so it doesn't drive away," he told Scotty and Chekov.

The engineer and the tactical officer were duly impressed with the mini Maserati as it raced around the room. Each was just a _little_ jealous that the pilot's toy collection was just a _bit_ cooler, and way more manly, than his own.

"Dude," Sulu repeated. "Sure as hell beats teddy bears, doesn't it?"

.

.

The atmosphere in Commander Spock's quarters was so somber, Gaila couldn't muster up the enthusiasm to mention that the place fairly shimmered with a curious combination of satisfied lust and UST or that Nyota's uniform tunic was on backwards. She kicked absently at the hideous little creatures rubbing against her ankles, causing the ugliest one to cry, "We meant no harm!"

The Spock plushie looked pointedly at her friend, and then his eyes kind of clouded over and Ny cocked her head as if she were listening intently.

"They need mouths," Nyota translated, and the Orion only just managed not to smack her forehead in self-recrimination. "If she doesn't eat eventually, Nyota D might not make it. We don't really know how long she can wait."

Gaila looked at the Dolls, noting the way Mini Nyota huddled in Little Spock's arms, her head resting on his broad shoulder. _They are just too cute! Well, they would be if they didn't look so miserable._

Then Spock D glanced at Nyota got that glassy look in his eyes — eyes she had sewn so carefully to appear as deep and mysterious as the real Spock's! — that meant there was more mind-to-mind communicating going on.

When Nyota turned as bright a red as her brown skin would allow, Gaila realized they hadn't told her everything.

"What am I missing here?" she demanded, as if she wasn't already full of suspicions.

Nyota and the commander remained tight-lipped, but Little Spock crushed Mini Nyota closer to his chest, pressing their itty-bitty foreheads together. Gaila had seen her friends do the same thing whenever they thought she wasn't spying on them. The action pretty much confirmed her hunch.

Guiltily, Gaila gazed at the victims of her prank. None of this would be happening if she hadn't decided she also needed a Nyota plushie before she'd finished designing the replica of her roommate's favorite instructor. She hadn't been able to shake the idea creating a Nyota incapable of yakking her ear off, but she'd started working on the Spock plushie first, and she figured if the two were eventually going to be a matched set….

Making both of them mouthless had seemed like such a cute idea at the time. The idea of correcting the defect _now_ was terrifying.

Tears filled Gaila's wide blue eyes. "I'm so sorry, guys," she croaked.

Spock sounded suspiciously like he was holding back a sigh when he said "While your remorse demonstrates a commendable understanding of your past mist—"

"What he means is 'less sorry; more fixy!'" Nyota snapped.

Gaila knew she looked stricken. She also knew she had to answer.

"But, I can't," she told them, then burst into tears.

Spock, Uhura, Spock D and Nyota D all exchanged glances.

"I… I just _can't_," Gaila blubbered through an ocean of tears. "The n-n-needles will _hurt_ them!"

.

.

V. Kirk strode across the room, somewhat surprised to see the space was only a little bigger than Gaila's.

"Damn! Gonna have to talk to my Other about giving Spock bigger quarters," he told Jimmy. The dildo didn't answer, only scuttled faster to keep up with the voodoo doll.

"An' what, exactly, does Mr. Spock's quarters ha' tae do wit' yer bargin' in here like ye oon the place?"

Startled, V. Kirk stopped mid-stride and nearly toppled over when Jimmy slammed into his back. He stumbled forward a few steps before finding his balance and looked up.

Directly into the eyes of a very angry honey-colored teddy bear. Dressed in a tweedy olive-green three-piece suit with (incongruously, V. Kirk thought) a bright red ribbon tied around its left ear, the bear was staring down at him, paws on sturdy hips, from the top of a narrow bed.

He was pretty sure it was a female; if the voice hadn't already given that away, the ribbon would have been a pretty good indicator. V. Kirk had his Other's supreme confidence in his ability to deal with any woman who wasn't named Uhura or Gaila. The smile he aimed at his bruin interrogator was nearly identical to the one that had gotten the other Jim Kirk into numerous beds (and out again, unscathed) for years.

"Hi," he said, thrusting out a hand. He let his gaze drift up and down the teddy's body. _Oh yeah. _Definitely_ female_. "James T. Kirk."

Her eyes widened for a moment, and he would swear that if teddy bears could blush, she'd be flushing prettily right about now.

And she _was_ pretty. So attractive, in fact, he didn't notice her companion until he heard a low rumble emanating from the dark space behind her on the bed.

Whatever spell V. Kirk had been (very successfully, he told himself) been weaving was broken and her head snapped around.

"Медведь," she said to whatever it was that was growling on the bed. "He claims he's the captain, but clearly he's one of us."

V. Kirk watched as another bear, this one the color of rich, dark chocolate lumbered into the light. There was nothing welcoming about the way this one glared at him.

"You are right, Thomasina," the new bear — Medved?— said, his thick Eastern European accent bordering on dangerous. "He cannot possibly be the keptin." He placed a proprietary paw on Thomasina's arm.

She shrugged it off again, saying, "Ach, lad! I dinnae think he means any harm. An' if he's one of us, 'tis likely someone made him in the captain's image."

Realizing that the oddly dressed female might be the only thing keeping him from becoming the Russian bear's dinner, V. Kirk nodded his head vigorously. "That's right. This chick Gaila made me. So she could stick pins and shit in me whenever my Other does something to piss her off."

'I think he's just lost," Thomasina continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I'm guessing he's not very smart."

Offended, V. Kirk folded his arms over his chest and yelped, "Hey!" just as Jimmy squirmed out from behind him, standing as tall as he could, as if to defend his Kirk's honor.

"Oh!" It was Thomasina's turn to be startled. As she stared down at the little dildo, her face lost its look of shrewd speculation and took on a delighted smile. She hopped down from the bed and slowly approached the pair of intruders. "Oh, what a cute, _wee_ lad, he is. Медведь! Look at how sweet the wee thing is, tryin' to protect his master!"

V. Kirk wanted to take exception to the "wee," but Jimmy was already wriggling happily, and straining not to move towards the teddy's coaxing paw.

"Oh, come here, me bonny lad," she cooed. "Such a sweet, wee thing, ye are."

Unable to hold back any longer, Jimmy scooted forward and was only just able to keep himself from spurting all over his new friend.

On top of the bed, Медведь started to growl again.

.

.

A day or two earlier, adding mouths would have been a cinch, Gaila explained after she managed to stop crying and Spock went to comm Dr. McCoy. She had hidden a hoard of embroidery silks amongst the tools of her other… hobby, she told Uhura.

"I just don't think they can take the pain," she whispered, tears threatening again.

Only Leonard McCoy bursting through the door yelling, "Damn it, Spock! I'm a doctor, not a toymaker!" prevented her from losing her shit all over again.

"_I'm_ the toymaker!" she yelled right back. "_You_ just need to administer the anesthesia and then stand back and watch an artist at work!"

She was so busy standing straight and glaring at the doctor, she missed the looks of satisfaction that passed among the two couples.

.

.

Kirk stood in the middle of his quarters, shaking with frustration.

"I'm sorry, Jenny," he said for what felt like the thousandth time.

"No, you are not," the weeping coital surrogate bawled. "You do not want me."

He really wasn't, really _didn't_ and was past the point of pressing the lies. Throwing up his hands (even though she was too preoccupied with her misery to notice), he stormed out of the living area and threw himself onto his bed.

"I'd rather be dealing with an entire squadron of Klingon warbirds," he muttered to no one in particular.

.

.

"What? No!"

Five pairs of eyes darted over to Uhura's anguished faced. Two slanted left eyebrows rose in unison.

"Look at him! He's—_they're_ fine," she said, sounding the tiniest bit calmer. "They don't need to stay here overnight."

Nyota D's eyes narrowed in consternation as she opened her newly-formed mouth. "If _he's_ going to spend the night with _her_," she announced, struggling to sit up on the too-big biobed, "_I'm_ staying with Big Spock tonight!"

"Big Nyota," Spock D said with a tranquility was ruined when he yanked Nyota D back into his arms, "the doctor is correct. Nyota and I should remain here until he is certain there will be no further complications from our surgeries."

"What complications?" she demanded. Ever the linguist, she went on with, "You have to have had complications in the first place to have 'further complications.'" She turned her laser glare on Bones. "Doctor, clearly if he's healed enough to argue with me, he's well enough to come home tonight."

"Were you even listening to me, Lieutenant?" he barked back. "Observation. You're a linguist; you should know that word. In doctor speak it means keeping an eye for things that _might_ go wrong."

Obviously unable to counter that, Uhura folded her arms over her chest and poked out her lower lip. She cast a hurt look over at the doll, but didn't say another word. Bones wondered what the big deal was.

It seemed the toy knew exactly what the big deal was.

"I believe you are discounting a certain advantage to our stay in Medical Bay, Big Nyota," he told her.

The real Spock stepped forward and put his hand on Uhura's shoulder, shaking his head at his mini-me while he was at it.

"If Nyota and I are forced to sleep elsewhere," Dolly-Elf went on anyway, "you and Large Spock are free to continue the activities we interrupted earlier."

Bones hadn't realized an African woman could blush so hard. Or that Vulcans could choke on stifled laughter.

"Aww!" exclaimed the Orion pest. "You can't sleep without your widdle Spocky if you're not sleeping with your big Spocky? That. Is. _So_. Cute!"

Anger flared in Uhura's eyes. She shrugged out of her boyfriend's hold and lurched towards her friend.

"I'm not the only 'cute' one around here," she spat, jabbing a thumb over the shoulder she'd just emancipated. "Spock—"

Whatever she was going to say next was lost beneath the Vulcan's lips. Bones hadn't even seen the overgrown pixie move! One minute he was standing behind his woman, trying to pretend he wasn't about to go all caveman on her, and the next he was… well, he was going all caveman on the woman.

"Spock D is quite right," Spock said once he finally let the lieutenant come up for air.

Her replica turned her face into his replica's chest to cover a giggle of her own.

Uhura blushed again, offered a shaky smile and a shakier "good-night" to everyone in the room.

Then she moved almost as fast as her Vulcan, dragging him out of Sick Bay, presumably heading for whomever's quarters were closer.

Bones knew he was grinning like a fool, but didn't care. He turned to Gaila, ready to crack a joke at the couple's expense, only to find the Orion girl staring raptly at the toys.

The fool grin fell off his face faster than a communications officer in heat could snatch a science officer out of Med Bay.

_Like Vulcan, like Vulcan doll_. Bones shook his head. Spock D already had Nyota D halfway out of her uniform tunic and was putting his new mouth to very good use if Nyota D's whimpers and moans were any kind of indication.

"Cut that out!" he ordered. _Who the hell new Vulcans could be such lechers? _"Nurse Chapel," he bellowed. "Get another bed ready for Miss Uhura Doll."

Only too happy to comply, Christine made short work of preparing another biobed and then taking a kicking and punching Nyota Doll to a biobed clear across the Bay.

Bones sighed, resigning himself to what was sure to be a very long night.

.

.

Scotty walked into his quarters to find the bears sitting on the floor, entertaining company. Before he could get a word out, Chekov dashed forward and snatched up one of the newcomers.

"Look, Mister Scott!" he exclaimed. "Is the keptin! Hello, Keptin Kirk!"

Engineer Scott stood stock still, watching the tiny version of Captain Kirk decide whether to smile at the ensign's exuberance or demand to be put down. The Scotsman had to bite back a grin at the doll's dilemma.

Then the Russian youth noticed that "Keptin Kirk" wasn't the only unexpected entity in the room. He swooped down, ready to pick up the other visitor, saying, "And vhat is dis," but was startled into stopping (and into dropping the Kirk simulacrum) when both Scotty and Медведь shouted, "Don't touch it!"

"You do not know where it has been," the darker teddy bear added in a much quieter voice.

Pavel peered closely at the pink, trembling shaft and pronounced, "Probably in Lieutenant Gaila's—"

"Enough!" Scotty cut him off. "It's been a long day, lad. An' tomorrow is sure tae be even longer. Off tae bed with ye."

He nodded at the bear sitting next to Thomasina, clutching her paw. "Mr. Medved."

Медведь reluctantly released the other teddy and stood, nodding in turn. "Mr. Scott," he said before turning to Chekov and treating him to a thorough scrutiny. "The engineer is right, Pavel. It is past your bedtime."

Chekov knew better to whine in front of the others, so he picked up his bear and made his farewells, sounding as reluctant to leave as Медведь had been to let go of Thomasina.

"I'll be seeing you tomorrow!" she called after the pair as they exited.

Scotty was left to stare at "Captain Kirk" and his little friend. "An' what am I supposed tae do wi' the two of ye?" he wondered.

.

.

Spock managed to get Uhura undressed without letting on that her tunic had been on backwards for the past two hours, thirty-eight minutes and seven seconds. He made even swifter work of removing his own clothes.

She lay sprawled on his bed, open and waiting for him. He allowed a slow, sexy grin that he _knew_ would increase her arousal by no less than eighty-four percent.

"Now, Lieutenant," he murmured as he knelt next to her, "where were we?"

.

.

Kirk lay back on his bed, trying without much success, to ignore the muffled whimpers coming from his living area.

The door, when it chimed five minutes later, was more relief than annoyance. He levered himself off the bed and trudged over to the door, hoping against everything that whatever lay behind it wasn't yet another damned Animate.

Gaila's green grin greeted him as the door slid open.

"Hello, Jim," she said throatily. "I thought you might be having a little trouble sleeping."

Jim felt an answering smile part his lips as he pulled her inside.

.

.

Sulu tossed and turned, unable to sleep through the Scottish terrier's incessant yapping.

"I fucking _hate_ Monopoly," he groaned, trying in vain to shut out the sound with a pillow over his head.

* * *

**A/N:** I think the chapter pretty much speaks for itself this time.

Disclaimer: I don't own and I don't profit.


	7. Promise of A New Day

Thomasina came awake immediately, just as she had done the day before. There were no stages during which she gradually gained awareness. One moment she was she was dreaming of eating beremeal bannocks slathered in butter and with a bit of cheese on the side, the next she was staring around Montgomery's darkened quarters.

Surprisingly, she felt alert. Excited, even.

Not so surprisingly, the others warna awake yet. Gettin' Wee Jamie tae sleep a haedna been easy. The poor lad couldnae get comfortable, nae matter how Voodoo Kirk tried to soothe him. Mont had been fair set tae gi' the bot of them tha boot. A sudden brainwave kept _that_ from happening, but it was late afore they'd been able to test her theory and get the lad settled doon.

She _should _let them sleep. The chorus of soft snores was actually peaceful. But Thomasina was eager to begin the new day. Keen to start her planning.

The real captain wasnae exactly pleased aboot what was happening on his ship. Nae _thinking_ Animate could afford to rest easy.

.

.

While the artificial ship's night was not of a greater duration than what Spock D knew to be the norm, his perception of the passing hours was greatly heightened by his neglect to sever his link to Big Nyota before Dr. McCoy had him forcibly separated from his own beloved. That Large Spock also maintained a connection to Nyota D became obvious when Spock D heard her soft, frustrated whimpers from across Sick Bay around the same time he was made aware of her acute arousal through their bond.

He had comforted her to the best of his ability through their link, but in the end, they agreed to experience the other couple's extended bout of copulation vicariously. Spock D was certain their counterparts were aware of their presence. He took a small measure of satisfaction in knowing that they knew they had gained the privacy Big Nyota had so vehemently insisted on. It was not logical, but then Spock D had been made in the image of one who was only _half_ Vulcan.

Although the Bay lights had not yet been set to ship's day levels, he could see Nyota clearly, lying still on her bed. As much as he longed to call to her across their bond, Spock D was reluctant to disturb her rest. It would be selfish to wake her simply to fulfill his own desires. Besides, if the Animates were to have any say over their fates aboard the Enterprise, it would be wise of him to prepare a line of reasoning that would prevent their expulsion.

.

.

The night before had been terrible. Jenny might have appreciated the Mistress's lessons in seduction if the Mistress had not demonstrated her wiles on the Master. No matter how many times Jenny told herself that the Master belonged to the Mistress, she could not stop the pangs of jealousy that threatened to erode her reason.

"If only the Master wasn't so _handsome_," she grumbled quietly.

The worst part of the episode had come after the Mistress ensured the Master was fully prepared for coitus. Jealousy all but forgotten, Jenny had been nearly lost in the throes of her own arousal. But then the Mistress had.. .stopped. Leapt off the bed where the Master lay, pants around his ankles, seemingly unconcerned that he would not reach completion with the Mistress.

"I'm going to take care of this in a hydro shower," the Mistress had announced, jabbing a finger towards the apex of her black-clad thighs. Jenny realized her bafflement showed when the Mistress added, "You _do_ know how to pleasure yourself, right?"

Of course Jenny did not know how to pleasure herself! She was a fully-operational coital surrogate. Apart from its use as tool to elicit a sexual response from a partner, self-stimulation was not in her databanks.

"Zetelenek!" muttered the Mistress. "How the hell are they programming sex dolls these days, anyway?"

Without waiting for an answer, the Mistress had strode across the Master's bedroom and grabbed Jenny's hand.

"Come on," she had said. "Time for your next lesson."

The Master, Jenny had noticed as the Mistress dragged her into the sanitary unit, was already attempting to finish what the Mistress had started.

Standing, Jenny put enough space between herself and the sofa to begin the series of stretches the Mistress suggested she do every morning she remained Animated. As her body flowed into the various forms, her mind drifted back to the lesson on self-pleasure. _That_ part of the night, at least, had been wonderful!

.

.

Медведь worked his way from beneath the wiry arm holding him prisoner and peered blearily around the small room. He took in the reminders of Mother Russia lined up neatly shelves, kept safe from the vagaries of space flight behind transparent aluminum doors. A stack of data solids — no doubt full of starcharts and treatises on tactical maneuvers — sat in tray on the orderly desk. Pavel really was a good boy.

But it was time for the child to wake up.

Last night had been wonderful!

Meeting the magnificent Thomasina was nothing short of extraordinary. Beautiful. Brilliant. Practical. She was everything a teddy bear should be. And he would not see her again as long as Pavel continued to sleep.

"Солнышко," Медведь whispered as the "little sun" burrowed deeper into his pile of bedding, "I am very proud of you." He gently peeled back the blankets and sheets covering the ensign's face.

"Я все еще сонный," Chekov muttered snatching one of the blankets back.

"Wake up!" Медведь balled up the covers in his paw and yanked. "It is time to greet a new day, , Solnyshko."

.

.

It had been a _long_ night. That wasn't to say it was also a _bad_ night. All things considered. At least they'd all gotten some sleep. Eventually.

V. Kirk shrugged off his makeshift blanket, sat up and stretched. After a good yawn, he sat up and glanced across Scotty's desk to the green blob of silicone with a pair of pink silicone spheres sticking out.

"Time to wake up, Jimmy!" he said as he got to his feet.

"An' it's about time, too!" came a stern voice to somewhere off to his right.

"Good morning to you, too, Thomasina," he called out cheerfully.

.

.

Nyota Doll opened her eyes and stretched languid. She felt a smile come to her brand new mouth as the events of the night before filled her mind. The Others had been busy for hours. Once they'd surrendered themselves to the possibility, she and her Spock had reaped the benefits without having to engage in any of the work.

She hummed a little as she sat up in the biobed. Mouths were wonderful things! She could hardly wait to try hers out on her mate.

_I also eagerly anticipate such an encounter, beloved._ Spock Doll's thought drifted to her, unspoken and her smile grew.

_Soon as Bones lets us out of here, k'diwa,_ she replied, _ we need to find a place of our own_.

Images of what he had planned once they achieved that goal made her skin heat. She wondered, briefly, if plush synthetic fabric was likely to burst into flames due to intense horniness. The idea made her grin spread, and she shook her head.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the tall, blonde nurse from the night before, walking briskly towards Spock D's bed.

"Chapel," she muttered too quietly for the human to hear, and, using the bed sheet as a makeshift rope, scrambled down to the floor.

.

.

"Come on, Big Guy!" Jimmy jumped when he felt a firm pat on his squishy guys. "Time to get up."

Jimmy wasn't ready to wake up. The new warm dark place was nice and moist and — he wiggled around a little — and tight! If Voodoo Kirk wasn't out there, needing him, Jimmy would never want to leave the warm dark place.

"What's all tha' racket?" bellowed Thomasina's friend, Scotty. "Is it mornin' already, then?"

"Aye," said Thomasina. "An' it's time an' past ye were awake to see it!"

The warm dark place was so warm and dark. Jimmy didn't want to leave! But Kirk needed him and Thomasina said it was past time to wake up. And Thomasina was Jimmy's friend.

Without her, Jimmy wouldn't have this brand new warm dark place. So nice and moist and tight. Jimmy knew if it wasn't for Thomasina, he wouldn't have slept all last night.

_She_ was the one who figured out what Jimmy needed and told her friend, who had been so grumpy when Jimmy wiggling around under the scratch little blanket had kept everyone awake.

_She _was the one who told Scotty how to get this new warm dark place juuust right.

Jimmy didn't want to come out just yet. But Kirk and Thomasina were waiting and they needed him.

.

.

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaavennnnnnning."

The soft body in his arms stiffened.

"Huuuunnnnnnnngerrrrrr!"

Spock raised a single lid.

"Devooooooouuuuurrrr," hissed a voice coming from somewhere outside his line of vision. "Must !"

Nyota shot up, her eyes wild with fright as her head spun left and right, repeatedly. She reached over, fumbling for Spock's hand without even looking in his direction. The sight of her rapidly rising and falling chest nearly distracted him from the waves of fear flowed through the skin-to-skin contact.

Half of him wanted to calm her, to soothe her terror, to point out the statistical unlikelihood of her experiencing harm here. The other half was just enjoying the show.

A quick look inward confirmed there was enough time. If he made it quick. _We do not have to report for duty for another seventy-three minutes. Five minutes in the sonic shower should be sufficient. An additional six minutes to reach the bridge…. _

"Spock!" Fear gone, Nyota snatched her hand away. The look she shot at him was dangerously close to her death glare. That did not bode well for the possibility of fulfilling the fantasies her show of fear had prompted. "How can you think of sex at a time like this?"

When all else failed… Spock raised a brow, smiling slightly. Nyota could never resist that expression.

"Damn it!" she said, throwing herself down again, landing on him instead of the bed. "You know I can never resist that."

The half-Vulcan and his human were otherwise occupied when three tortured faces appeared at the food of their bed. Six eyes filled with tears.

"But we're _hungry_," whimpered the most hideous of the trio.

.

.

"I trust you slept well, Captain."

Kirk rolled onto his side and smiled at the woman lying next to him.

"Not too bad," he told her. "I can think of worst ways to wear myself out." Gaila grinned at his wink, so he figured it was safe to continue with, "And I can think of a few good ways to wake up, too."

Red tresses bounced as the Orion temptress tossed back her head and laughed heartily. Knowing he was taking a chance, Kirk snaked an arm around her waist to drag her closer.

"Can I take that as a 'yes'?"

She placed a hand on either of his cheeks before pulling him in for a kiss that most definitely _felt_ like yes. Kirk's body decided to show her just how much he appreciated her cooperation.

"Mmm," the captain murmured into her mouth.

Then Gaila pulled back, smiling again. "Not even if every other man on this ship underwent a mandatory penectomy, Jim."

.

.

Sulu reluctantly dragged his aching body out of bed. Fucking dog was stillyapping.

_How the hell does something so tiny make so much damned_ noise_?_

"Don't you ever sleep?" he yelled at his closet.

"Yap! Yap! Yap!"

Marching across the room, he went to yank open the closet door.

His only warning the faint sound of a purring engine.

Then he was flying, his feet pointed towards the ceiling, his back parallel to the floor.

He landed hard. At first, he was too stunned to even think.

By the time he had enough air in lungs to actually breathe, all he could manage was a furious growl.

.

.

Still riding high on Spock's.. . reassurance, Uhura stepped out of his rooms and turned left, heading for the lifts.

Just in time to see a grinning Gaila exiting the captain's quarters into the nearly deserted corridor.

Her good mood plummeted like a bag of rocks in 2-g. Gaila's face fell. Like a kid caught casing a cookie jar.

Uhura rushed forward before her friend could make an escape.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex with him."

Kirk's door slid open again. A blonde head poked out saying, "Mistress, I— Oh! Excuse me, Mistress. I did not realize you were not alone."

Jenny 8675309 colored and ducked back into the cabin. The door whooshed shut again.

The irrepressible Orion leaned back against the bulkhead and cocked her head to the side, a sly grin finding its way back to her green face.

"Well, that depends on how you define 'with,'" she said.

* * *

**A/N:** So, the Animates are definitely up to something! Wonder what it could be. "Я все еще сонный" was the best (only) translation I could get for "I'm still sleepy." Don't know if it's correct or not.

Disclaimer: I don't own and I don't profit. Except in reviews. Like it or hate it, let me know.


	8. The Best—Laid Plans

Spock Doll lingered over breakfast. Not because it took an inordinate amount of time for him to consume sufficient nutrients — Nurse Chapel had provided him with a spoon sized ideally for his hands and a bowl (of a likewise reduced volume) filled with an adequate (though far from excellent) approximation of plomeek soup.

"Mr. Scott's bear ordered them made," the nurse had explained, indicating the bowl and utensil. "Imagine that!"

Not at all surprised to learn that Thomasina was the mind behind such a practical undertaking, he had nodded and reached for his breakfast.

"I made the soup myself," Chapel had added breathlessly, causing Spock D to wonder if she was in suboptimal physical condition.

"Thank you, Miss Chapel," he'd said quite politely, although he failed to understand, and generally disapproved of, the human tendency to engage in idle conversation when there were other, more important, matters to attend to.

Such as breakfast.

"And where is Lieutenant Uhura Doll's plomeek?" he had thought to ask in hopes that the question would serve as a subtle hint. He made a show of glancing around the nurse as if she had spirited away a second bowl in the empty space behind her.

The capillaries in Nurse Chapel's face had constricted, giving the human an unhealthy-looking pallor. This was followed, in quick succession, by a sudden dilation of those same vessels and a widening of her eyes and an unhinging of her lower jaw.

Spock D had raised an eyebrow as the nurse's mouth opened and closed several times before she found success in her search for something to say.

"Oh! Well, I— I guess Dr. McCoy will send an orderly with something for her to eat." She'd glanced nervously around Sick Bay before adding, "I mean, he probably already order it for her, but since she's not in her own bed…" The nurse had eyed Nyota with accusation as the words trailed off.

_I'm amazed Other Nyota hasn't pushed her out of an airlock yet, _ his mate had thought at him.

Spock D had merely tilted his head to the side and thanked Chapel as "I have no doubt you will clear up any confusion my mate's natural inclination to join me might have caused."

Now, he watched, fascinated, as Nyota Doll — who was propped up against several pillows in his too large biobed — chose small bits from the wide assortment of foods Dr. McCoy had insisted she try.

"Nope," declared Nyota D after decorously removing a piece of raw celery from her appealing new mouth and depositing it in her napkin. "Not so much," she announced after a sampling of creamed spinach was dismissed in similar fashion as a spoonful of tapioca had been discarded. By the time she had tried a fourth unpalatable morsel, those luscious lips were turned down at the corners. The large plate in her lap remained three quarters full.

"Leonard just should have asked Other Nyota what I liked to eat rather than fobbing a mountain of disgusting slop off on me."

"Indeed," Spock D murmured, eyes on her attractive pout.

She lifted her fork and stabbed a green ring of capsicum and raised it to her mouth while her partner observed with baited breath. After just three point two seconds of thoughtful chewing — without any attempt at discretion — she spat out the latest inedible article and dropped the utensil with a frustrated sigh.

Something, her mate decided, would have to be done.

.

.

Truth be told, Gaila really didn't feel like returning to her little room after spending the night hiding out in Kirk's quarters. Who _knew_ what kinds of crap the dildo delegation had gotten up to in her absence?

She considered just going to the mess for breakfast first, but an annoying voice of reason (which sounded remarkably like Nyota) said that leaving it till later might only make matters worse. Instead, she reluctantly rode the turbolift to her deck, worrying all the while that she'd have half a dozen more messes to clean up when she got there.

A door, three down from hers, hissed open just as she stepped off the lift. A sleepy-looking Sulu stumbled out of his quarters with a "Hold that!" and nearly bowled into her in his effort to catch the ride before it disappeared.

"Well, good morning to you, too!" she called after him.

"Whatever," hissed the handsome helmsman as the doors closed.

Gaila continued down the corridor, trying to brace herself for whatever was waiting. She stopped at her door and took a deep breath for slapping the touchplate.

The Orion woman charged into her room to find… absolutely nothing out of place.

The cyclopentasiloxane had been cleaned away and there wasn't a pulsing pecker in sight. Gaila sighed with relief.

A brief survey of the room revealed the collection of faux phalluses were all back in her closet, tucked within the folds of the correlating sex aid of their choice. Just to be on the safe side, she closed the closet and locked it before heading for the head and a speedy sonic shower.

.

.

At first the mess seemed way more crowded than usual. The place rang with the sounds of multiple conversations, interspersed with the occasional grunt or yowl or revving motor. A quick scan of the room revealed that just about every group had an Animate or three in its number.

This was _not_ the way he wanted to start his day. The mini Enterprise buzzed his ear sympathetically, and he absently reached up to pat her in gratitude.

He collected his pancakes and eggs from the replicator bank and gave the place another, more careful look around.

Scotty and Chekov were virtually holding a toy convention. Their bossy teddy bears, unsurprisingly, were talking. (Probably throwing their weight around.) A doll he thought he recognized, what with its dark blond hair and command-gold uniform shirt, was eating pancakes while watching something long and pink and equally familiar half bury itself in a bowl. He decided he didn't want the examine the latter two more closely, and searched for safer ground.

Spotting Uhura and Spock in a quiet-looking corner, he started towards the couple. But then he noticed Uhura slipping a spoonful of something mushy and pale green towards an apparently empty chair.

He squinted for a better view and saw a bronze demon statue happily licking its lips. Two others surrounded it, apparently waiting their turns for whatever slop she was dishing out. He hesitated a moment, wondering if maybe things wouldn't as bad as he figured. It was Spock and Uhura's table, after all.

The furry head popping over the edge of the table from the Vulcan's lap sealed the deal. If two of the most level-headed people on the ship were keeping company with Animates, Jim was better off eating alone with his little ship.

He turned on his heal, ready to beat a hasty retreat. But then a sight that buoyed his flagging spirits caught his eye.

An haggard Hikaru Sulu sat hunched over a bowl of miso soup, warily eying the ship's new residents.

_Man after my own heart_, Jim thought as he hurried over to join the pilot.

The tiny Enterprise flew in his wake.

.

.

Thomasina ignored the looks aimed at her group. Ye'd bloody believe these fools had never seen a dildo, a voodoo doll, two teddies and two humans share a table before! She nibbled the last of her bannocks, reminded Mont to finish his square sausage, and continued her conversation with Medved about the captain's upcoming meeting.

Pavel, the voodoo captain and the wee lad didnae seem to faring so well as the rest of them, though. Med's boy's face was so red he looked like he'd spent a week on Venus wi' _nae_ sunblock. V Kirk, she noticed during a sidelong glance, was hunched over his plate of pancakes, but paying more attention to poor Jimmy than to the food he was automatically shoveling into his pretty mouth.

But Jimmy… now, that _was_ a sad case. He was snuffling hopefully around his bowl, trying to figure out how best to attack his soupy farina. Thomasina was just about to suggest that Mont find the lad a straw when a flash of green caught her eye.

"Is that the lass, then?" she asked V Kirk.

The stuffed captain tore his eyes away from his hapless charge long enough to spare the Orion a glance.

"Yeah," he replied with a grimace. "That's her. Probably has a pocket full of pins…"

But the golden brown bear was already standing on the table and calling out across the mess hall.

"Join us, Lieutenant Gaila! We've got plenty of space."

It wasn't a request and Thomasina was happy to note the brilliantly colored woman knew an order when she heard one.

.

.

Spock watch Nyota's expression go blank. Clearly, his replica was communicating with his girlfriend. He was tempted to remind her that she wanted to eradicate the temporary connection with Spock Doll now that they could communicate verbally, but decided it would be more prudent to investigate the matter first.

A brief contact with Nyota Doll told him all heeded to know.

.

.

Kirk was startled out of his impromptu planning session with Sulu by the sudden screech of a chair being shoved back. He'd started to stand when heard Uhura hiss, "She's asking to have her ass handed to her!" but was almost immediately distracted by a blur of golden brown fur scurrying towards the replicators.

He sat back down, telling himself he didn't want to get involved before he had to.

.

.

"We fed him farina wi' extra milk because the replicators cannae manage a puréed Cullen Skink just yet, but give Mont and me a day or so an' we'll have it sorted."

Gaila was taking notes on what to feed the other wee lads when they heard the chair scrape across the floor, followed by her friend's threat in the suddenly silent mess.

Thomasina was fairly she knew what was going on. Between Gaila's garrulous account of the emergency mouth surgery and Mont's sly hints about a certain nurse's preoccupation with a certain first officer, it wasn't hard to figure out. She was off the table and running to the replicator bank before anyone could even ask her why.

Before that gorgeous Lieutenant Uhura reached the replicators, the bear had ordered up a doll-sized meal consisting of the woman's breakfast favorites. By the time she was no longer alone, Thomasina was holding a tray of fresh fruit, flaky bread and a vegetable omelet.

"If ye'll hold this," she told the slender human, "I'll order her some tea."

Uhura's look of surprise lasted only a moment before she smiled and took the proffered tray.

"You're a genius and an angel, Thomasina," she said. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew."

"Psh, gae on wi' ye!" said Thomasina, brushing off the compliment, though secretly she went all warm and fuzzy at hearing the truth spoken aloud. "Ye'd think we werena on a starship wi' replicator records, the way some people carry on! I'm just shocked ye havenae pushed that fool nurse out of an airlock yet!"

* * *

The meeting, much like the morning, wasn't going the way Jim had planned. He could have kicked himself for giving in to a sense of fair play and allowing the Animates have representatives sit in again. He was pretty sure his senior staff and "designated interested parties" might put more stock in his reasoning if the only the Animates' representatives weren't so damned.. reasonable.

To be honest, he'd expected it from Spock Doll. Mentally, the fuzzy little Vulcan was a carbon copy of the original. Kirk had even been prepared to have to out-talk Uhura Doll.

But the bears were turning out to be his fiercest opponents. _Scratch that_, he thought as Scotty's teddy outlined a perfectly sensible theory for her current living, breathing status, _bear, singular_. Even Spock and Spock D were deferring to her!

"So," said Thomasina, "our best bet would be to gae back to tha' nebula an' see if we can find oot what's inside."

Spock D and Uhura D were bobbing their heads like professional yes-dolls. So were just about everyone else in the conference room.

"Wait a minute," Jim cut into all of the nodding and murmuring in agreement. "We don't know for sure that it was the nebula. And even if it was, we don't know what _about_ the nebula might have caused this to happen. It's not like we can just go there and _ask_ it!"

"Why not, Keptin?" challenged Thomasina bruin-in-arms.

"Because, Mr. Medved, even if the nebula is what caused all of you to come to life, there's no reason to suspect that it was the effect of anything sentient."

Uhura was frowning and shaking her head back and forth ominously. In spite of this morning's display, Kirk had held out hope that he could get her to see his side of things. According to Gaila, she loved her Spock plushie like was her blankie and he was sure he could get her to agree that things were better when toys acted like toys. But the look in her eyes told him he wasn't going to like what she had to say. He asked her, anyway.

"You have something to add, Lieutenant Uhura?"

For some reason, Uhura looked down at her fingers, long and hard before speaking.

"I think whatever it is that did this is probably sentient, Captain," she said, meeting his gaze again.

Damn! There went his best chance of support after Sulu. At least _he_ would welcome a quiet night if they could just solve the Animate Problem.

"On what evidence are you basing this assumption, Lieutenant," Jim was forced to ask. Even though he really didn't want to hear the answer. Because if Uhura was giving it, she was probably right about whatever it was that was going through her head.

"Fingers, sir," she said, fluttering hers. "Spock D and Nyota D didn't have any before the Awakening. Now they do. But Gaila had to _make_ them mouths."

The Dolls fluttered their fingers, too. For good measure, Uhura D stretched her lips into a smile. Gaila shrugged her shoulders and gave him a rueful grin.

"Whatever did this," Uhura continued, "knew exactly what it was doing."

Spock looked from his girlfriend to the Dolls to that damned smug teddy bear before turning to Jim.

"Captain," he said without the slightest trace of inflection, "I must concur with Thomasina's and Lieutenant Uhura's conjectures."

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own and I don't profit.


	9. Great Bouncing Icebergs

Very little was accomplished during that second emergency meeting after the captain conceded that some sentience in the nebula was probably the cause of the Animates' animation.

Only Kirk and Sulu were eager to immediately turn back to investigate the hypothesis. Thomasina and Medved were, fortunately (shockingly!) silent on the subject. But Spock pointed out that before they did anything to further the investigation, Starfleet Command needed to be notified.

"And we are expected to begin the Stage Three evaluation of Thelujisayari's petition for Federation membership in eight days, Captain," he continued. "We cannot circumvent such a task without explanation and, preferably, at least tacit consent."

The last was bullshit, of course. Aboard the Enterprise, they altered or avoided assignments without authorization all the time. But Jim had maybe been a little too open with his opinion that Uhura's presence on the ship was the only reason they were being forced to take part in fast-tracking the planet's application and he didn't want his staff to accuse him of sulking. Besides, the others were quick to agree (with a speed he suspected had little to do with any desire to abide by protocol) that Spock had the right of it.

Nor did they decide on a course of action during a third discussion, held after dinner that ship's night.

"We cannae go rushin' back in like the fools we'd be if we did, Captain!" Scotty pointed out. "Who knows what it might wake up if we do? I dinnae want to end up havin' tae reason wi' a recalcitrant warp core if we land in a bit o' trouble, ye ken?"

That was met with yet another series of swift assents and Jim (though not quite ready to give up) was convinced that postponing a fourth meeting until the senior staff could compose and send a belated report alerting HQ to their circumstances was their best bet.

_That_ took an additional two days, and an almost unanimous vote decided they may as well continue on course to Thelujisayari while they waited for an official reply.

Although waiting to do anything rankled, Jim really couldn't complain. At least not to anyone other than Sulu.

On the whole, the Animates caused very little disruption to routine. Of course there was that damned dog that prevented the pilot from pursuing a decent night's sleep, but after the first couple of days, the rest of crew got over their initial excitement and accepted the new residents as the norm. Soon enough, everyone got back to business of serving on a starship. As Kirk overheard Gaila remarking to Uhura one day in the mess, "It's not like the Enterprise hasn't run into weirder crap since we launched."

.

.

Gaila wasn't as sanguine about the situation as her offhand comment might have suggested. No matter how well-behaved they were, she still had six sham schlongs sharing her quarters. Even though Jimmy spent most of his time with Voodoo Kirk in Scotty's quarters, the others had to be fed, cleaned and… motivated on a regular basis.

The feedings and baths were inevitably messy and time-consuming. Watching the five foolish phalluses futz with their food then dick around in the sonic showers put paid to any desire she might have had to exercise the fellas herself. The solution to that particular dilemma, when Thomasina suggested it, struck her as so obvious she periodically facepalmed at her lack of ingenuity for days.

Just after dinner on the Animates' fifth day, she'd finally succeeded in chasing the tawny Caitian member into the head and locking him in with the rest of the schmuckeleh when her door chime sounded.

Marching across the room, she started to clean up the little puddles of Cullen Skink as she called for whoever it was to enter.

The door slid open to reveal a tearful Jenny 8675309 carrying an obviously annoyed Thomasina.

"The Master said he requires at least two hours of privacy every day," the sex surrogate lamented as she stepped inside. Huge tears streamed down her pretty face. "I am useless, Mistress. The Master keeps refusing my offers to help relieve his tensions. He does not want me in his quarters. No one wants me!"

Gaila only just stopped short of rolling her eyes at the dramatics. Just in case temptation got the better of her, though, she focused on swabbing up the last of the soup spatters on her carpet. She didn't look up until Thomasina cleared her throat noisily.

"Dry yer eyes now, lassie," the golden bear ordered sternly. "I told ye, yer Mistress is sure tae know a way tae keep ye occupied during tha' time." She eyed the bowls littering the floor meaningfully. "Indeed," she continued, "she might even need ye fer longer than two hours, lass!"

Gaila felt a grin growing on her face as she caught on to Thomasina's subtle suggestion. _Zetlek_, she loved that plush bear!

"Tommi's right, Jenny." With a wink, she brushed off her bruin buddy's low rumble at the unasked-for nickname and continued stacking the bowls. "I'd _love_ to have you hang out in my room a couple of hours a day." She flicked a glance at the closed door to the sanitary unit before going on cheerfully, "In fact, I'm going to really need your help in just about five more minutes."

.

.

When she wasn't prepping the captain on formal greetings and the significances of various ranks among the Thelujians, or reliving her final Academy year with Spock (the Dolls had commandeered her quarters, so she was sleeping in his quarters, anyway) didn't leave her tied up, Uhura spent the bulk of her time off the bridge cultivating what she figured was probably one of the best friendships of her life.

Nyota Doll found the experience tremendously enjoyable, as well.

The two Uhuras devoted hours to curling up on couches, watching movies, gorging on goodies and shining their boots while their respective Spocks spent a similar amount of time pursuing things that could only be of interest to themselves and, no doubt, telling each other how brilliantly logical his companion was. All around, it was a win-win situation. Except when Nyota D's embroidered eyes took on that vacant look that Uhura knew all too well from looking in a mirror.

"_Again_?" she cried, exasperated when the Doll did exactly that just as they were getting to the good part of the 2253 remake of _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_. "I swear, Endie, that's gotta be the fifth time today!" Even after the dissolution of the temporary connections, the Dolls didn't keep secrets from their people.

Nyota D smiled vaguely as she hurriedly scrambled off the sofa and began gathering her things to go. "It _is_ what we were made for, Ennie," she said with a patently unapologetic shrug. "What do you expect when our Fabricator is an Orion? Besides, it's not like we have official duties. We have to _something_ to pass the time."

Uhura rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile from stretching across her face as she reflected on what had occurred during the Dolls' very first "meeting." She was happy for her. Besides, if "Endie" was busy with "Esdie," that meant Spock would be free to get busy with Nyota.

"Let me give you a lift," she offered, bending to pick up her friend. "It'll be faster that way."

She stilled as Nyota D gave her a considering look. "Well, in that case," said the Doll, "you might want to put on your cadet uniform. Since we're saving time and all."

They shared an even bigger smile and then Uhura rushed into Spock's sleeping alcove to change her clothes.

.

.

Sulu sank back against his closed door after Chekov, his teddy and the Spocks had gone. Now, even more than he had over the past four night, he regretted bringing his toy collection on the Enterprise. If Thomasina's theories bore out… He shook his head and told himself he should be thankful that she'd been too busy sorting out another Animate to join their little test group tonight.

He pushed away from the door and trudged over to his desk and filled a thimble with the miniature kibble the Scots bear had somehow managed to coax out of the replicators. At least she'd sorted out his pewter pet. One night wearing the muzzle she'd fashioned had stopped the yappy dog's incessant barking quite nicely.

While the dog scarfed his dinner, Hikaru allowed his mind to drift back to what he'd learned in the past couple of hours.

The two officers and two Animates who'd stopped by to "peruse your mid-Twentieth Century stop motion animation collection" hadn't wanted to share their purpose with him. They'd thought he was as anti-Animate as the captain and took a lot of convincing to believe that he was only anti-annoying little metal dogs.

But what they eventually told him had been… intriguing. And by the time they'd all finished viewing the 1964 classic television special, he'd been half convinced that Medved's girlfriend was out of her furry little mind.

When considered in conjunction some of the beings they'd already encountered, at least part of her hypothesis was… entirely plausible. If he thought about the specifics of their current mission, the rest of it didn't sound so silly, either. The leap of logic was worthy of Jim Kirk — not that Sulu would say that in front of the captain — but at the end of the bound, her conclusion was sound.

Still, he hoped that for _once_ in her short life, she just might be wrong. On all counts.

Because if she was partly right, he had no idea what would happen once they finally went back to the nebula. And if she was completely correct, he wouldn't even have to make it to the nebula to find out.

* * *

No one, except perhaps Thomasina (and by extension Scotty — and Медведь and, therefore, Chekov), was less surprised than Kirk that Komack and Command didn't get back to them until _after_ they'd completed the mission to Thelujisayari.

Kirk figured the admiral had two good reasons to thwart any request for the Enterprise to kip his pet project: during a series of melds with Ambassador Spock (_ill-advised_ melds, according to the elderly half-Vulcan who could, nonetheless, deny little his lost best friend requested), the young captain had learned that in another universe, the actions of James Tiberius Kirk had been a source of near-constant anxiety for one James Komack. Additionally, in _this_ reality, the admiral had been the only flag officer to vote for a reconvening of Jim's hearing concerning cheating on the Kobayashi Maru. One way or another, he supposed, Komack had a score to settle with Starfleet's golden boy.

Thomasina had a somewhat more pragmatic interpretation of the admiral's motives. Well, a lot more pragmatic.

"He's as sensible as a Scot," she pointed out during the much-delayed fourth meeting. "Komack kens a few bairns' toys on the ship cannae be more important than givin' his precious Thelujians a shot at the Federation. He doesnae care aboot a boy-captain's mischief!"

Spock pointed out that Jim's impertinent habit of referring to the admiral as "Komack the Slovak" was not only likely to have failed to endear the captain to the head of Starfleet's Sector 9, but was also potentially polite offensive and genealogically ambiguous as the admiral declined to disclose his ethnic origins. But he did not deny that the Thelujians' acceptance into the Federation was a matter of personal interest to Komack.

As it should, since the admiral's own wife was originally from the Earth-like planet.

* * *

By the time the Enterprise entered orbit around Thelujisayari, Kirk had lost one companion, but unexpectedly gained another.

Hikaru Sulu realized he didn't really mind the dog so much when it didn't spend its every waking minute yapping at him. And he discovered Jenny 8675309 didn't really mind spending time away from Kirk's quarters when she had a handsome helmsman to keep her company.

"They really aren't so bad, Jim," he said when his captain started muttering about bossy bears and didactic dolls.

Luckily, two days before they were scheduled to meet with the Thelujian leader known as the Speaker, a far more like-minded companion.

"We need to get off Enterprise," V Kirk told him the night he and Jimmy finally made it to the captain's door. "It's not that you don't run a good ship... It's just..."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "You need your own ship."

As if on cue, the tiny Enterprise buzzed between them, and even spent a few minutes hovering around Jimmy. She was ecstatic to have two whole Kirks and a partial at her disposal.

The guys weren't nearly as happy. They slumped together, contemplating their fates, content in their mutual misery. Well, Jimmy was actually wondering if Really Big Jim liked warm dark places, too, but that didn't stop him from moping with the others.

"But I don't like weird shit happening on my ship," Jim quipped after a while. V Kirk raised his eyebrows at that but said nothing for another while.

"Me either," he agreed before adding, "Speaking of weird…"

Jimmy perked up, sure they were about to talk about warm dark places, but Big Jim only asked Really Big Jim, "Have you heard that bossy bear's latest theories?"

Three hours later, Jimmy was asleep in Really Big Jim's lap — for some reason he hadn't even needed a warm dark place to get comfortable — and the two Kirk's had hatched a whole new plan.

.

.

"Vhere is da snow?" Chekov wondered, scanning the verdant green landscape. "Vhy is 'snow planet' missing snow?"

"There's snow at the top of their most sacred mountain," Nyota Doll explained since Uhura was busy giving the Kirks last minute instructions. "'Thelujisayari' is strictly a reference to their version of Mount Kenya."

"A Russia was first to summit Mount Kenya," the ensign replied, knowledgably as a smiling man in flowing robes approached the large landing party. He missed Медведь rolling his glass eyes.

.

.

The feast held in honor of their first night on the planet looked and smelled sumptuous, but none of the away team, comprised of equal numbers of Animates and people, knew if the food tasted any good because they had to wait until the Speaker finished his welcoming speech before they could eat.

At least the banqueting hall was attractive, Uhura thought as the Speaker finished recounting his people's excitement at meeting James Komack when the admiral's ship had accidentally landed on their planet. While he went on to speak of his personal pleasure at having Komack as a son-in-law, she eyed window hangings whose elaborate embroidery reminded her of home.

"Thirty generations ago — before those who became the Wakufunzi and the Uhura had undertaken their great work — the Wazee Hekima brought numerous clans to Thelujisayari so that our ways would not be lost after the coming of the Palest Ones. But even today, the great-great-grandchildren of the great-great-grandchildren of those who were great-great-grandchildren, and so on and so forth, to those who first set foot on Thelujian soil have not forgotten the sayari of our ancestors."

The Speaker folded his hands together, bowed his head and lapsed into an obviously dramatic pause. It stretched on, moment after uncomfortable moment until most of the Enterprise delegation (except for the Spocks and the Uhuras, of course) were shifting in their seats and exchanging glances across the gorgeously-appointed hall. Well, Scotty and Thomasina were eyeing the food instead of everyone else, but that wasn't exactly significant. Those two were always hungry.

Chekov forced himself to sit still as they waited for the Speaker to speak again. He used the pause to quickly calculate the number of generations represented before the "so on and so forth." Realizing that it was amounted to thirteen, he wondered if the Speaker was gearing up for a recitation of all thirty, divided into blocks of great-greats. But once close to sixty silent seconds had passed, the man unclasped his hands, raised his head and continued.

"Now, we must determine if the time has come for us to rejoin the world of they who fathered the ones who became the great-great-grandfathers of our great-great-grandfathers' great-great-grandfathers, and so on and so forth.

"Tonight, we travel to the summit of Kĩrĩ Nyaga where your worthiness shall be judged."

Suddenly, the half-Vulcans sensed motion.

"The hall seems to be under the influence of a vertical propulsion, Captain," Spock said in conversational tones.

_Everyone _noticed when the building halted its ascent with a slight jerk.

The tall, broad doors at the back of the hall blew open with a gust of wind and snow. It was a testament to their training that every member of the landing party was on their feet and facing the entrance before the furious flurries resolved themselves into a familiar figure.

"Mzee Hekima Msingi is come!" announced the Speaker, then he fell to his knees.

Kirk looked from him to the white-bearded man standing in the doorway then back to the man kneeling blissfully.

"Are you talking about _Santa_?"

* * *

**A/N:** "Theluji" means "snow" and "sayari" means "planet" in Swahili. "Kĩrĩ Nyaga" is the traditional Gĩkũyũ (Kikuyu) name for Mount Kenya. Wazee Hekima is roughly equivalent to "wise elders" and is a nod to the "Wise Ones" (in later revealed to be the Preservers) from the TOS ep _The Paradise Syndrome_.

Mzee Hekima Msingi means the primary wise elder, who in _this _story is also known as St. Nikolas, Père Noël, Kris Kringle... well, you get the picture.

This one is self-edited, so all mistakes are my own. (And that's also why it was so late in coming.) Title taken from the movie screened in Sulu's quarters.

Disclaimer: I don't own and I don't profit.


End file.
